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‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. The Widgett mental furniture was perhaps worn and shabby, but there it was before you, undisguised, fading visibly in an almost pitiless sunlight. She gloried in it: he needed her. What he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his demeanour. “You might have given me a chance, anyway. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. ‘You knew her well, Miss Mary?’ Mrs Ibstock turned at the window.
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